


Elskan mín

by Ivartheboneme



Series: Ivar [12]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Angst, Explicit Smut, F/M, Fluffy Smut, Mention of childhood sexual abuse, POV First Person, Scars from self-harm, Trauma, mention of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivartheboneme/pseuds/Ivartheboneme
Summary: The second winner one shot from my 800 follower celebration. Beware of the tags!Please note that for all of my works that have sexual content, all relevant characters are at least 18 years old. If they are not yet 18 in canon, I age them up.





	Elskan mín

“Leila, over here.” Hearing Ivar’s voice coming from a corner of the great hall, I step towards him. People stare as I pass them by; they’re not nearly as discrete as they think they are. Ivar is sitting on one of the benches, surrounded by his brothers. Ubbe greets me with a kind smile and offers me a cup of ale while Sigurd just acknowledges my presence with a nod. I accept the drink and sit down next to Ivar. His fingers find mine under the table, immediately interlacing with each other in the way we both have grown accustomed to during the last five months. He doesn’t say much at first; he never does. Then everyone begins to settle down again, returning to their own conversations rather than eyeing the girl who has caught the attention of the youngest prince. Ivar’s lips brush against my forehead; he’s trembling. I immediately wonder what spiteful comments he’s heard about his body today.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” He asks in a voice so low that I’m barely able to hear it over the drunken singing and chatter of the great hall. I nod in confirmation; there’s been very few nights spent in my own bed the past few weeks. My confirmation has Ivar pressing closer to me, his thumb rubbing circles into my hand. The evening continues as usual except for the fact that Ivar seems a bit more nervous than normal. Even when Floki stops by and tries to initiate their usual banter Ivar mostly chews his bottom lip between nervous smiles. When Floki gives up and motions to leave again Ivar is quick to grunt that he’ll follow the old boatbuilder outside to get some air. As soon as the two men disappear outside Sigurd leans towards me, his eyes dark but somehow also glittering. He sounds...amused, I think, as he begins to speak.

“The cripple thinks he’ll get to-” Ubbe cuts him off. 

“There’s a platter of your favourite cakes over there, Leila. Why don’t you go take a few before Hvitserk eats them all?” His tone is still warm but I see an edge in his eyes that tells me he is about to ream Sigurd out; that’s not something I feel the need to be around for. I pass by the entrance just in time to see Ivar sitting outside, Floki crouching down to pat his back.

 

Ivar rests his head against my shoulder, sighing softly as Sigurd and Hvitserk get more and more worked up while discussing who is the better swordsman.

“Are you tired?” I ask, running my fingers over his cheek.

“A little.” He admits.

“Let’s go to bed then.” Ubbe squeezes Ivar’s shoulder and offers me a warm smile as we say good night. As I enter the room I can immediately tell that something is different from the previous nights. He always keeps a candle or two at his bedside table but now there must be at least a dozen, spread throughout the room. Ivar shifts next to me, eyes fastened on the floor.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“No,” I kiss one stubbled cheek “it is very sweet of you. But I didn’t realize we were celebrating anything tonight?” I have an idea of what it is that he wants but I’m reluctant to jump to any conclusions. Ivar immediately looks away, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth like he always does when he’s nervous. I sink to the floor next to him and reach for his hand.

“Ivar.” He looks up at the sound of his name.

“I’d like to try,” He finally admits “if you’ll let me.” It had been somewhat of a relief to hear Ivar say that he wanted to wait; I have my own reasons not to rush into a physical relationship and Ivar speaking up first about his insecurities meant that mine could remain a secret for the time being.

“Come on then,” I tug at his arm “I imagine it will be much more comfortable in the bed.”

  
  


It started out so well but now I’m straining not to panic. His hands smooth over my sides and an unpleasant throbbing begins in my ears but I try to push it aside. He squeezes at my waist and I whimper, arching up against him. I try to convince myself that I can do this but it is growing more and more difficult. Rough fingers find the hem of my thin shift and begin to slide it upwards, baring my legs and I bite down on my lip to keep from sobbing. The fabric is at my waist now and the throbbing in my ears only increases as he reaches for the neckline, trying to expose my shoulders. Eventually the noise drowns out everything else and it takes all I have to raise my voice.

“Wait. Please stop.” Ivar pulls back and I immediately roll to the side, away from him. My arms wrap tightly around my midsection and I try to stay still in spite of the ragged breathing. Ivar pipes up from behind me.

“I’ve hurt you.” He’s crying.

“No, Ivar, it’s not…” My voice trails off into a sob. Ivar isn’t the one who's hurt me. I sit upright so suddenly that Ivar jumps in surprise. Tugging at the sleeve of my shift, I show him the marks on my forearms. Ivar’s eyes widen as he sees the unevenly carved lines that run horizontally from an inch or so under the heel of my hand and almost all the way to the crook of my arm.

“I did this.” I croak. Perhaps that is stating the obvious but I don’t know what else to say and continuing to talk seems the best way to keep my tears at bay.

“I-it’s been awhile since I, well, since I stopped but …” but I might start again, I want to say. If I have learned anything in the past years it is that it’s impossible for me to predict when the heavy fog will settle over every part of me and weigh me down until I can’t move. He’s still staring and I’m not sure how to interpret that.

“I should go.” I whisper, already reaching for my shoes that lie discarded on the floor as the first tears begin to run down my cheeks.

“Come here,” he says but hurries to add “please.” when he sees me hesitate. I lie down on my side, facing Ivar. He chews his bottom lip, shaking his head at me. Both of his hands come to rest on either of my shoulders and he turns me so that I end up on my back. As he reaches for my arm I immediately tense up.

“No, no, I’m not going to hurt you,” He hurries to reassure me “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Ivar brings my arm to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to each of the scars.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks, making me bark out a bitter laugh.

“You’re not going to want me if I tell you.” Ivar briefly pauses the ministrations.

“There’s nothing you could say that would make me stop loving you.” He grunts. Ivar doesn’t seem to realize what he just said because he goes back to kissing me.

“You do?” I ask quietly “Love me, I mean.” He closes his eyes, burying his face against my arm before murmuring an answer.

“Yes.” I bite at the insides of my cheeks, making a decision.

“Promise you won’t make me leave after I’ve told you.”

“Of course not.” Ivar says before giving me one last kiss. I free myself from his grip then turn on my side, facing away from him so that I won’t have to watch his face change as I speak. I tell him everything. About the pain, about feeling disgusting, about that one detail that has stuck so adamantly in my mind; a stain of blood on my little nightshirt. I’ve run out of tears by the time I’m done talking. Ivar is quiet for so long that I’m starting to consider just slipping out of his light grip and leave. Before I can do any of that he pulls me back against his chest, one arm resting securely over my ribs while the other is above my head.

“I’m so sorry, elskan mín.” Ivar leaves a trail of kisses along my cheek and I sniffle into the furs.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. I try to wipe my cheeks dry, failing miserably.

“Because I love you and I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“Why would-” Ivar starts.

“Because I’m broken!” I snap “I’m ugly and broken and no good-”

“No,” this time it’s Ivar interrupting me “no, you’re not.  Mér þykir vænt um þig, Leila and none of the things that happened to you was your fault.” I was wrong; I do have more tears and my body curls in on itself as I start to sob again. Ivar’s grip on me tightens and he holds me until I fall silent again. His lips brush against my neck.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He says “Try to get some sleep.”

 

Waking up in the morning, I find that Ivar’s soothing embrace of me hasn’t wavered much during the night. I wonder if that means he’s been awake all these hours seeing as I know just how much he can toss and turn while in the fits of a dream. As I begin to move, Ivar stirs too and before long those piercing blue eyes are slowly taking in my face.

“Did you sleep anything at all?” I ask, resting a hand against his cheek.

“A little,” he murmurs while pushing the tousled hair back from his face “wanted to keep an eye on you.”

“Thank you.” He smiles softly then tilts head forward so that our foreheads meet, staying like this for a moment. Leaning away again, Ivar finds his shirt on the floor and motions to put it on.

“We should get something to eat.” I stop him by grabbing onto the fabric. He looks at me, eyebrows raised in question.

“Just a little while longer.” I say. Ivar lets his shirt fall to the floors again and he settles down, lifting the furs to invite me closer to him again. The warmth radiating from him has me letting out a content sigh as I settle with my head resting on his shoulder. I don’t bother with trying to go back to sleep. The first kiss is just a peck on the cheek, as is the second and third. Then Ivar tries to pull back but I find his mouth, melding my own lips to it. There’s not much thought behind it on my part, it is just something that I do. Having rested so comfortable and securely in his arms for what must be the hundredth time has made me more at ease and cemented the fact that he does care for me, that I’m not some plaything. Ivar stills for a split second, then gently reciprocates the kiss. His stubble scratch at my palms as I run my hands over his cheeks. When we finally break apart Ivar whimpers then rubs his forehead against mine fervently, silently. Every limb of mine seems lighter than air as I move to settle on top of him, feeling his erection underneath me. A blush is spreading over Ivar’s face.

“Leila.” He whispers breathlessly. My name has never sounded better than when it falls from his lips. My fingers wander further down, playing with the soft material at the hem of his pants. Ivar’s eyes widen as I begin to tug at them to expose more of him. He wraps his fingers around my wrists to stop me.

“Are you sure?” He asks. I take a moment to collect myself, taking a deep breath and then nodding.

“I want to at least try.” Ivar moves his hands to the back of my neck, urging me close enough for a kiss. His pants end up on the floor but he makes no move to undress me, instead letting me set the pace this time. I explore his skin with the tips of my fingers, tracing the small marks and bruises that are a result of training and crawling. He closes his eyes when I trail along his legs; just like my arms they have remained hidden up until now. The skin is softer than I expected but they feel colder than the rest of him; just a little, barely enough to notice. Taking Ivar’s hands in mine, I guide him to my shift to show that he can help take it off. He goes slowly, his rough palms brushing against my sides as he lifts the fabric over my head. A spark of unease flares up and I cross my arms over my chest to hide.

“Don’t do that,  ástin. You’re beautiful.” He says softly, caressing my cheek and I uncross my arms again, smiling shyly at him. Ivar reaches a hand out so that it is hovering right in front of the curls between my legs.

“May I?” He asks. I murmur a ‘yes’ then gasp as he brushes a finger over my soaked folds. Ivar stills his exploring finger.

“Did it hurt?”

“No,” I shake my head “it just feels..unusual. Don’t stop.” He repeats the motion, adding another digit this time and I squirm on top of him. I cry out when finds the sensitive bud and Ivar practically jumps at the loud noise.

“Careful.” I say in a breathless voice. He takes my word to heart and goes much easier the next time, circling it rather than pressing down. Once he has discovered how to touch the outer parts of me he moves onto my opening. Ivar asks for permission again and I nod my consent. As soon as his finger begins to make its way inside me I grab onto his shoulders for support, reminding myself to relax. He adds another digit, pumping them in and out while I rock my hips to meet the steady movements. Warmth settles deep down in my stomach and I clench around him, making him groan.

“Elskan mín.” His skin is flushed red, his chest heaving and eyes blown out; I want more of him. Grabbing his arm, I pull his fingers away from me. Ivar looks shocked at first but when I wrap my fingers around his length he lets out an ‘oh’ and his hips buck into my grip.

“Are you ready, hulda mín?” I ask. He nods in response, hands already making their way to my waist. Rising to my knees, I line him up with my entrance and Ivar helps guiding me down. It’s scary at first and not entirely free from pain but he soothes me all the way through until I can’t go any further. It takes me some time to gather up the courage to move but when I do Ivar’s eyelids flutter so prettily and his lips part in a silent gasp. I pause to lean down and kiss him, smiling as I feel him whimper into my mouth. His hands urge me into setting a quicker pace and I go back to rocking my hips above him, my motions much more confident now. Before long, the same heat from before begins to build again and I drag my nails down Ivar’s chest while moaning. His eyes glitter as he looks up at me.

“That-” He growls, bucking his hips “-is the prettiest noise I have ever heard, ástin.” His hips continue to rise off the bed to meet me and together we find a new pace, one that has tension building throughout my entire body. Before I can really understand what is happening I stiffen on top of him, letting out another one of those moans that he liked so much. My toes curl and my neck cranes as heat rushes through me, my cunt clenches around his cock. Still deep inside the pleasant fog, I hear Ivar cry out too. His hips still under me and then all I hear is our heavy breathing. He guides me down next to him then wraps an arm over my shoulder before tugging at the furs to cover us both. Ivar looks even more beautiful now, with a thin layer of sweat covering his skin and a dazed look in his eyes. I nuzzle at his neck, smiling at his weak protest that it tickles. I whisper into his ear.

“ Mér þykir vænt um þig, Ivar.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translations (found here)
> 
> Elskan mín - my love, my darling
> 
> Mér þykir vænt um þig - I love you
> 
> Ástin - my love, my darling
> 
> Huldan mín - my love, my darling


End file.
